It was born dead, you and I. We were complete strangers, then strangers that got intimate and back to complete strangers again. I came home and took a hot shower. I squeezed three pumps of body wash on my washcloth to scratch you completely out of my skin and went to sleep. I had to work the next day, it was still Wednesday. I hoped, as I aged, the urges would cease or at least not bother me so often. But by the end of the day, I checked my phone again for another match, you were not enough to satisfy my needs as I wish you were.
The problem with searching for mates online is the smell. I confess, I am a little sensitive, my taste varies within the seasons. For summer I prefer fruity smell, spring flowery, fall nutty and winter rich like vanilla or chocolate. From my part, I smell nothing, bland clean and soapy, familiar but not particular. I comb my washed hair to the back of my head and wear freshly washed clothes. My hygiene is immaculate, but I do not expect just the same, I also need my mate to smell appetizing.
You were so wrong, still, I liked you, with a flowery smell in October. You were fresh, I could smell something peculiar in you, I undressed you and accessed your smell, kissing your body and running my nose through your legs and thighs, the alkaline metal scent was within you, inside your veins, your body reeked of metal, how could that be? You smelled like those people from Missouri before the great depression. You reminded me of my first adventure in North America; they were fresh, desperate, and tasty just like you were.
You were in bed, with my arm supporting your torso, you searched for my mouth, I gave it to you the way you wished, your excitement made your blood rush, your short breath oxygenated and moved your blood cells, your face was flushed, dinner was almost ready. You climaxed and fell exhausted in the mattress, and I kissed you one more time before my teeth penetrated your chest carefully.
I find it funny how our attacks are depicted as violent and hurtful, you smiled with closed eyes through it and held me while I depleted you from your energy, not even your lithiated lemon soda blood stopped me from drinking until your last drop. You were peaceful when I rested your head on the pillow and dressed your body in respect to you. I washed myself quickly in the sink and dressed again, I kissed your lifeless head for having satiated me for at least another week.
Perhaps I was aging, one silly detail I had forgotten is that blood with lithium would make me dizzy, I became lightheaded, my limbs were trembling uncontrollably. I sat in my car and turned the key, however my vision was blurry, I was unable to drive. I walked slowly to the bus stop, nauseous, and checked which line would take me home.
It was three in the morning, the hotel wasn’t so cheap, but I still could feel the stench of cheap waxy soap in my hands, I threw up in the bus stop, black rancid liquid. I wish it was at least raining, but it was a clear October night, with few stars and crescent moon. The vomit would still be there in the morning. I almost had forgotten my gentleman’s bag with chocolate and wine, I opened a bottle of Sassicaia 2013 and washed the evidence of my carelessness, the wine mixing with the half-digested and half coagulated blood flowing to the curb and disappearing in the storm drains. What a waste of almost healthy blood. Despite the lithium, you had so many erythrocytes, I slurped and savored slowly and now it was splashed on the curb mixed with grape juice.
One unstable step after another, I was able to climb the bus stairs and sat in the front seat, and instead of a ten-minute drive, it took me almost half an hour between bus and walking home. As I said, it was a question of scent. You fooled me, otherwise I would have chosen another place to have dinner, closer to my house. Before bed, even with my head spinning, I concentrated in my hygiene, I brushed my fangs, flossing is very important, even if ingesting just liquid foods, my kind isn’t immune to cavities or periodontal diseases.
My dreams were particularly strange, as your blood got digested and broke down and my brain fought the lithium. At first, I was in a desert, buried in cold sand with snow covering my facial hair, I was half frozen, still, weakened, and couldn’t dig deeper, and when the sun reappeared I burned slowly, it was a vivid dream, my skin boiled and I felt the blisters, my eyeballs popping, and the skin finally melting.
Then I woke up in another dream. You were on a table, beautifully set with a white table cloth, surrounded by roses and strawberries, your body was covered by a beautiful tule flesh color, you were tempting and appetizing, sleeping, oozing your flowery scent. I confess, I contemplated eating your flesh, some of my kind eat flesh, but it gives me indigestion. I caressed your face and hair, the waves and almost black long curls framing your delicate face, I removed some locks from your elongated nose and kissed your thin lips. You were angelical, a banquet.
However, as I approached your chest and pressed my pointy fangs to your soft skin, your body revealed thin and long thorns that pierced my eyes and inside my mouth. I rested on top of you, lifeless and still, with your thorns holding me in a humiliating position. There is nothing more embarrassing for my kind than dying while eating.
Luckily, it was just another nightmare. I woke up in my bed, regularly cold and not pierced by thorns, I opened the window after consulting the watch and opened the triple curtains, the window and the blinds, watching the moon and stars comforted me, since ever transforming into a night creature, the moon was a source of comfort, despite not being able to see the sun ever again, I knew the filtered moonlight was a reflection of the sun itself and it brought me relief.
When the blinds lifted few centimeters, I noticed the bright light crossing the small space, I closed the blinds again, and the window and curtains. I checked the watch and it was still five in the morning, the sun was supposed to appear at 6:12AM, it couldn’t be. I checked the UV sensors on my roof, and the UV index was already four. I wouldn’t be able to go to work. At nine, I would call in sick, despite working in a lab, deprived of sun, I could not handle the journey.
I spent the day inside, reading, playing chess with myself, writing poetry, checking the UV index from time to time. I was anxious to get on the streets again, the sundown was approaching, but the UV index was still seven. How strange. Many hours later I realized the sun was not setting. For the first days, I still had blood bags I stole from the labs. Once they finished, I began to languish as I was stuck at home, I would die, alone and starving, what a destiny. When I understood I was near to the end, my face sunken, my skin gray, my body weak, my meat broken, my once supple and hydrated skin felt like old parchment. I decided it was time, I opened my living room window and decided to finish it all. My skin boiled, I was happy, old and tired, I smiled until the end.
Just to wake up in my room again, rinse and repeat. Why was I being punished for performing my part in the food chain? Why are humans so important anyways? You would think with eight billion of them, if some disappeared it would be considered good, but some higher power decided to unleash its wrath on me. I guess humans are supposed to die of war, disease and poverty instead. I honestly believe becoming nourishment is nobler than dying violently or sick in a hospital bed. Yet, I get punishment for eating!
I believe I remained at least a thousand years being punished, starving to death closed in my house just to wake up to starve to death again. One day, however, it was different. I woke up, it was 4:17AM, I checked the UV index, it was 0, I opened the curtains, window and blinds, it was dark! Was it an illusion? Had I been redeemed? I checked the day, October 23rd. I dressed without care and left my house, at least the front porch, I felt the cold dew wetting my feet and the grass tickling me. I laughed, I screamed, I rolled on the grass, I was told to shut up by my neighbors, old Bertha even threw a bucket of water on my face.
I came back inside, happy, I cried the way I could, my kind does not produce tears. My body was stiff from the nightmares, I could feel the alkaline metal all over me, especially in my head. I opened my living room window and placed an armchair to watch the night and the watch, I needed to make sure it was not another loop.
As sure as the watch, the sun was peaking around 6:12AM, blinds, windows and curtains closed, I was still alive. My phone buzzed, I had a match. She was lovely, had short hair, small nose and big eyes, thirty-nine years old. She believed in self-care and did yoga. I was still full, but women liked to speak for days before meeting, I would be hungry and craving for her.
It was time, after a week on the app, she wanted to drink matcha. She was wearing yoga pants, light makeup and her phone glued to her hand. She had nutty smell, perfect, she drank her matcha, and for obvious reasons, I barely touched mine. I agreed with everything she said, we laughed, she was pleasant, just before finishing her matcha she whisked mercilessly, and added ice and soy milk, she pulled a small tan glass, opened the cap and let the liquid drop twenty-five times in the bottom of the cup. She tried to hide the label, however I did not have to read to feel the scent of it, she was on diazepam.
It explained why she was calm. I excused myself out, not again.
